Threatened Dancer
by Shooting Jewel
Summary: When Sarah has been accepted to the Juliard School of Arts, she thinks her life is perfect. But the competition is fierce, and she must work hard to stay one of the best dancers in the class. Includes trouble with her best friend and Derek *COMPLETED*
1. Hate&Competition

Threatened Dancer  
  
This, as the title shows, is a dance story, but I'll explain all the dance terms, so people who don't know anything about it can (hopefully!) enjoy it, too. But if there's anything you don't understand, e-mail me and I will answer all your questions. It's especially meant for people who have seen the movie 'Save the last Dance'. Please tell me what you think of the first chapter of my first story.  
  
Sarah strained to keep the difficult position she was in, with her arms raised gracefully over her head to the ceiling of the dance studio, and one of her legs lifted out in an attitude position (when the leg is first stretched straight behind the body and then bent at the knee so the foot is as high as, and parallel to, the hips) and her whole weight on the tips of her toes of her other leg. She threatened to wobble, and shifted her weight more over her supporting leg, until she was so straight she looked like a statue that had been carved in that position and would never move.  
  
Sarah loved moments like this, when she could stand on one leg without holding on to anything, ignoring the wisps of dark blond hair which had escaped from the tight knot she had fashioned at the back of her head.  
  
Then she heard the clack of the dance teacher's high shoes as she came towards the girl.  
  
'Very beautiful, Sarah. Come and see, class. Look at the perfect way Sarah holds her body over her foot and how she raises her arms in a graceful oval just in front of her head.'  
  
The teacher, Miss Levine, smiled at Sarah, pleased with her progress. 'And your leg forms a nice line there. Keep up the good work!'  
  
Flushed with success, Sarah lowered her leg and went down from her toes. She was sweating with exhaustion, but it was definitely worth it. It wasn't often that a pupil of the Julliard School of Fine Arts was praised with such enthusiasm. The competition was fierce, and if a student behaved badly, was absent or late for a few lessons, or didn't fulfill the standards of the school talent-wise, they were kicked out. A lot of young dancers had been dismissed in the first few weeks of school. But Sarah wasn't among them. Her talent was growing, as was her confidence in being able to succeed, and she was judged one of the best of the fifty female dancers in the Junior class.  
  
Meanwhile, Miss Levine was correcting other girls in the class: 'No, Ruth, you aren't right up on your toes. You will never get it right if you don't change that. Amy, that leg is better than it was before, but the knee still isn't high enough. Oh, Jane, will you never get that balance?! You've been working on it for weeks now!' she exclaimed exasperatedly as she struggled to get Jane, a tall, thin girl with wide dark eyes and ash-brown hair, into the right position.  
  
Sarah turned around and looked down the barre (wooden bar that runs along a wall in dance studios; dancers support themselves on it to get their balance and posture right) to see if anyone was as good, or better, as her. Ruth, who stood directly behind her, was trying with an agitated expression on her face to lift her entire weight on the tips of her toes. As Sarah looked her over, she shook her head.  
  
Ruth was hopeless. Her reddish brown hair was tucked up in a messy knot, her skinny, stick-like arms were held in a stiff, unnatural-looking way, when the aim was to make them look smooth and flowing, and her frowning blue-grey eyes looked too big for her thin, pale face. She was neither a good dancer nor a pretty one.  
  
Amy, who was next in line, was pretty, very pretty. She had platinum blond hair, sparkling violet blue eyes and a nice, slim figure that had a graceful look to it. Sarah sighed defeatedly. She could never look as beautiful as Amy. But, in fact, Sarah was even more beautiful than Amy. She possessed flowing, dark blond hair with bits of gold glimmering in it when the light touched it, and clear, long-lashed blue-green eyes that captured people's attention at first sight. Her waist was slimmer than Amy's, and her smile had an exotic flair to it. But in Sarah's critical eyes, she looked like a dead leaf in comparison to Amy's blossom-like appearance. In a little rush of triumph, she did note that Amy had been criticised often today by Miss Levine, and right now, her back was not straight as it should be, but crooked. At least she could dance better than Amy, she thought with a little bit of consolation.  
  
Dark-eyed Jane was of course still struggling with her attitude (see above), and even though she had managed to slip through the first harsh weeks of the demanding classes, Sarah was sure she wouldn't be here much longer.  
  
Sarah's eyes softened as she turned them to the next person in line, Ellie. Ellie was her room-mate, and the two teenagers had become friends quite soon.  
  
Ellie, tucking back a bit of her shiny black hair, looked up to catch Sarah's eye and smiled in her shy, friendly way. She was one of the most graceful and expressional dancer of the class, but she lost hope easily and couldn't jump very high or far. Sarah worked with her at the technical points of dance, and in return, Ellie taught her the Chinese way of expressing herself through movement, which she had been taught where she came from.  
  
Ellie didn't regard herself as pretty, but Sarah knew Ellie's small and slim form was beautiful even when she wasn't dancing. The happy smile left Sarah's face as she heard a bossy whisper that carried across the room:  
  
'You're not doing it right, Ellie. Your leg hangs behind you so you look like a scarecrow. Maybe you should eat a little less. I've got a great book on extreme diets I can lend you if you need it.'  
  
Poor Ellie went pink in the face and straightened her leg with ferocity, blinking back tears from her glassy eyes. Sarah's eyes hardened like steel as she met the gaze of the culprit.  
  
Sandra, the girl least liked by all the dancers, tossed back her head and looked at Sarah with fake innocence. Her light blue eyes stared in mock pity at Ellie's efforts and she laughed a tinny laugh, smoothing one of the golden curls that she had pulled out from her knot to dangle by the side of her face. Sarah glared at her with loathing.  
  
How dare she insult poor Ellie, who, despite her slimness, always thought she was too fat! And it wasn't like Sandra had the perfect dancer's body, either. Her figure was too voluptuous and her feet were too big. Even though she had a pretty face and lovely hair, she wasn't really beautiful. She lacked something for true beauty, something that Ellie did have!  
  
But in Sandra's opinion, she was the best, the most beautiful, the most talented, the most attractive to boys… She was the worst show-off on earth.  
  
'All right, girls. Come into the center, please!' the dance instructor called out and the students left the barre (see above) and headed to the middle of the room.  
  
When Sarah looked at Ellie again, she suddenly stopped short and gazed in bewilderment at her friend. Ellie's cheek-bones showed clearly through her skin, more clearly than before, and her arms were even bonier than they had been. Her eyes looked big and tired, and dark circles had formed under them. What was Ellie doing to herself?  
  
All of a sudden, Sarah remembered how often her room-mate had skipped lunch, saying she wasn't hungry, how often all she had for supper was an apple, and how often she disappeared into the fitness-room of the dance school. Ellie was dieting! And she was so thin already! Sarah realized with a start what could happen to Ellie. She could get anorexia, and what would she do then? If she didn't eat anything, she could die!  
  
The next time Sarah turned to Sandra, her eyes were burning with hatred. But she also felt a deep sense of guilt. How long had Ellie been doing this?! And she, who was supposed to be her friend, hadn't noticed a thing!  
  
This is all my fault, she thought miserably. And Sandra's! If Sandra hadn't kept on saying mean things to Ellie, maybe she wouldn't be in this mess now!  
  
As the music started for their floor exercises, Sarah squared her shoulders and decided with unwavering confidence that she would talk to Ellie after class. She had to save her friend! 


	2. For Love

For Love  
  
In this chapter, which is the sequel to `Threatened Dancer', Sarah is still fighting to get her friend Ellie to her senses, while at the same time she is trying to cope with not having seen Derek for a long time. It is different from my other chapter because it is written from Sarah's POV. Thank you for the reviews I have received and I hope to hear more of your opinions, especially from people who have enjoyed the movie `Save the Last Dance' or from people who dance, too.   
  
`Ellie, wait up!'   
  
I called out as soon as our early morning ballet class ended. My friend and room-mate was heading for the stairway to the first floor. Running, I caught up with her and turned her around so that she was facing me. Her face still showed the pain she had felt at the mean remark about her that Sandra had voiced during the class. And I could also see frustration and a bitter determination in her pretty, almond-shaped eyes.  
  
`What on earth have you been doing?' I demanded of her.  
  
`Look at yourself! You're as thin as a stick, that isn't going to help you dance!'   
  
To emphasize my words, I reached out my fingers and pointed to her clearly showing cheek bones, to her bony shoulders, and to her horribly skinny waist. It maid me sick just looking at it.   
  
`Sarah, I am not skinny! I am fat, why else would I dance so badly?! You're just being nice to me, because you're my friend!' Ellie burst out, the tears that flowed so easily now filling up her glassy eyes.   
  
`Your weight has nothing to do with your dancing ability, trust me! If you would only relax, and not be so afraid of making mistakes and letting all your feelings out, you would make so much more progress. Just dance, Ellie, that's your dream, isn't it? Just dance, and don't care about what anyone says! Dance to free yourself from all your problems, to be in perfect harmony with the ever-spinning world, feel yourself leaving the earth, to soar with the winds...'   
  
I broke off, caught in a drift of remembrance of the person who had told me those exact same words, when I had left for the Julliard School. Derek. He had taken me aside before I stepped into my dad's car and had looked at me with those sensitive, steady eyes.  
  
`Sarah,' he had said in a low voice so my dad couldn't hear.  
  
`At the school, there will be lots of people who want to be professional dancers. Some will be your friends, some will be your enemies. But don't wrap yourself up in hate. It will show in your dancing. Love and you will shine like a star when you dance.'   
  
I had smiled in spite of my tears at having to leave him.   
  
`I think I'll start with loving you, it's the easiest,' I had teased. He had grinned, flashing his white teeth at me in that sweet way he had. Then I had promised:  
  
`I've gotta come and see you again sometime soon. I don't care if I have to sneak out in the middle of the night to see you. Honestly, I wouldn't be able to survive even one month without seeing you, and the Christmas holidays are still three months away (A/N: Sarah is starting the first semester at the Julliard so it's September)!'   
  
One last desperate kiss, the last time for weeks that I would feel the safeness and security of his arms around me and his lips on mine, and I had had to leave.   
  
Remembering this scene with a spasm of longing, I remembered guiltily that I had not kept my promise: I had been at the school for over two months, and with all the training and late night working, I barely even had the time to phone Derek once every two weeks, let alone think of arranging to meet somewhere.   
  
Meanwhile, Ellie turned away from me with a little gasp, as if she were in pain, and whispered in a defeated little voice: `But I can't. Every time I try, I see Sandra staring at my body in disgust and her smirking at me, and I just fail...'  
  
She dashed down the hallway and disappeared up the stairs.  
  
That night, I avoided our room because I wanted to tell Derek about what Ellie was doing. Surely he could think of something to help her. I wandered out into the garden that was attached to the school and started walking down the path, kicking piles of brightly colored leaves out of my way. The moon was already rising, creating a sliver of pale light in the night sky. It reminded me of my mother- how, before she had died, she had told me stories about the moon; about its ever-changing shape, and about the magical power it held.   
  
I felt very alone, without my mother, Dad, Derek, or Ellie. I knew I had chosen that they weren't here with me now (except for my mother, of course), but I wished I would have been able to compromise more with my career and my friends and family.  
  
`Sarah! Over here!'  
  
With a start, I turned, yanked out of my thoughts by the voice. A dark figure crept out of a near-by bush. I couldn't believe my eyes- it was Steve, one of Derek's best buddies! (A/N: Steve isn't from the movie, I made him up myself, but Sarah knows him really well)   
  
Laughing with surprise and disbelief, I threw my arms around him in an exuberant hug.   
  
`Steve! What the hell are you doing here?' I giggled as I gave him high fives.   
  
`Kidnapping you, what else would I be doing at some stuck-up ballet school?' Steve grinned because he knew it annoyed me when my friends insulted Julliard.  
  
`At least the average I.Q. in there is up to normal,' I replied fiercely, knowing he didn't care a thing about smartness.  
  
`But wait- sorry, you probably didn't understand that sentence. After all, `average' has three syllables.' I shrugged and then laughed again when he started.   
  
`But honestly, why are you kidnapping me? Turned criminal in my absence?' I questioned, hoping he would give me a serious answer.  
  
Steve stopped laughing and looked at me with accusation in his eyes.  
  
`Derek's missing you like crazy, man. He's really worried because you sound so stressed on the phone, and he hasn't heard from you for a long time.'  
  
My worst fears had been confirmed. Suddenly feeling helpless and unfaithful, I protested:  
  
`That's not true! I phoned him... just a little more than two weeks ago... anyway, I was going to phone him tonight, but you showed up...' I trailed off miserably, feeling more than ever that I had deserted everybody who ever meant something to me.  
  
Steve had been watching me struggling with a slight amusement in his face.  
  
`Look, what are you standing here talking to me, come with me and you can tell Derek yourself,' he told me smilingly.   
  
`What? Come with you? Where are you going?' I asked, feeling a little ray of hope at being able to convince Derek that I still loved him.   
  
`You sound like an idiot. We're going to Steps; there's a real party going on there, even though I don't know why. But Derek's no fun when you're gone, so I went to get you. Whaddya say?' Steve looked at me expectantly.   
  
I felt trapped. Leaving the school at night was strictly against the rules, but I couldn't disappoint all my friends, especially Derek. Uncertainly, I glanced around at the school building behind me. Would anyone notice if I went just for a few hours? Ellie would, but she would cover up for me. Nobody checked our rooms, so wasn't there more than a fifty-fifty chance that my disappearance would go unnoticed? I really did want to be a dancer, and I was willing to make sacrifices, but what if Derek left me? To go on without him was impossible, I was sure of that.   
  
My decision finally made, I turned back to Steve with an excited grin on my face.  
  
`All right, you win. Let's go have some fun for a change!'   
  
I know this is a very short chapter, but I hope I can make the next one longer. I'm planning to write another story on the Redwall books, so watch out for it! S.J.   
  
6 


	3. A night out

A night out  
  
This chapter is still from Sarah's POV, please review and tell me if you want it to stay that way or not. In this chapter there is no ballet ( I can hear all of you sighing with relief), but just a little bit of swearing. Oh, and thanks for the reviews I got, most of them were pretty nice. Sarah discovers something most unpleasant…  
  
My breath caught in my throat as I walked into the colourful lights, the noise of laughter, screaming, and talking, and, most important of all, the thumping beat of the music in Steppes. Caught by this glaring scene, my eyes shone and I felt like throwing myself into the crowd of dancing people, to be connected with them by the relentless beat and melody of the music.  
  
But my sense overruled this urge, and I pushed my way through the crowd with Steve behind me, to reach the table at which Chenille and her friends always sat. I felt as if I had been living in a cocoon and had just discovered how to free myself from it.  
  
Suddenly I stopped short. I had caught sight of Chenille, sipping at her drink and staring with unseeing eyes at the mass of people dancing on the floor. Remembering everything Chenille and I had ever done together, I felt a pang of loneliness. True, Chenille could never replace Ellie, who knew what I was talking about when I talked about ballet or contemporary dance (like modern dance, only more difficult and acrobatical), but then, Ellie could never replace Chenille, the person who had helped me through those first days at the new school, when I had not known anybody, and who had introduced me to her brother Derek. All this time I had been away, I had not really missed her, but now, seeing her again, knowing I could hang out with her again, just made me realize how much I really had missed her.  
  
'Chenille! You still know me?' I called out to her, feeling more at home than ever in here.  
  
She blinked, came out of her trance, and saw me. Then, her face split into a huge grin, and her dark eyes danced with excitement and happiness.  
  
'Oh my gawd, Sarah! I can't believe you are actually here!' She jumped up and hugged me enthusiastically.  
  
For all my troubles, I decided, hugging Chenille as hard as I could, I would have the best time here. As long as she was here, anything would go right.  
  
I thought.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
I quickly explained to Chenille why I was here, still looking around anxiously for Derek.  
  
'Good work, Steve,' Chenille congratulated him.  
  
'It was about time we got to see you again!' she laughed, throwing back her short hair. I looked at her admiringly. She always looked absolutely perfect, and still gave you that reckless, mischievous impression. That bright red mini dress she was wearing lit up her impressive figure and her dark skin.  
  
I, on the other hand, was just wearing a bright blue blouse with short sleeves, and my jeans. I hadn't bothered to put anything special; I had just left with Steve right away. Now, looking around at all the girls with their short tops and skirts, I wished I was wearing something else. Fortunately for me, Chenille had taught me how to alter my clothing to suit Steppes.  
  
'Oh, Chenille? Come with me to the washroom?' I asked Chenille, hoping she would get what I meant and would have some accessories for me.  
  
To my relief, she grinned at me.  
  
'Okay, I'll see what I can do,' she replied slyly.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^»»»«««^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
The washroom was overcrowded with girls applying make-up to their already heavily made up faces, styling their hair, and, mostly, slipping little pills or packets of coloured powder to other girls, and tucking the bills they received in exchange away. The air stunk of sweat, deodorant, and cheap make-up, and there was a constant lull of voices going round, with the occasional scream or loud laughter.  
  
I stepped in front of a cracked full-length mirror, and, unbuttoning my blouse, tied the two halves together right above my stomach. That would do for my top. Chenille had been watching me approvingly. Like magic, she produced a silver glittery belt to pep up my jeans and her make-up bag. Smiling my gratitude at her, I began putting it on, while she swept my hair on to the top of my head, and pinned it up. I could tell it was going to look great.  
  
At this point, one of the girls in the washroom approached us and asked casually: 'You want to have a bit of sunshine?'  
  
We both knew she was offering us ecstasy, something we both kept away from.  
  
Not taking my eyes off the mirror, I kept my voice levelled as I refused: 'Get lost.'  
  
The girl turned to Chenille, offering her a white pill with a Smiley imprinted on it.  
  
'It's only ten dollars for one. You won't get a better deal around here.' The girl was obviously intent on selling her drugs.  
  
That was when Chenille lost her cool: 'Look, lady, I don't know who invited you to join us. Keep your ass away from here, cause we ain't no junkies.'  
  
The girl's face darkened, but she stalked off on her high heels, leaving us alone.  
  
Chenille turned to me: 'Are you done? Then let's get out of here. If Derek weren't here, I'd get downright scared.'  
  
The mentioning of Derek's name reminded me of the real reason I was here. Suddenly I was excited and eager to explore the dance floor.  
  
'Come on, let's go find your brother dear,' I told her as we left the washroom together, never noticing the black looks being shot at our backs.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^»»»«««^^^^^^^^^^  
  
The infectious rhythm went right to my legs, making me want to forget about everything but to move to the music. But my desire to see Derek was even greater. Chenille had gone off to find Steve, and I was scanning the mass of dancers for the familiar sight of his face.  
  
With a rush of triumph and longing, I saw him, his eyes laughing into the face of everybody who would dare try to take away his happiness. Just the sight of that made me stop the hurried dash for him that I had wanted to do. I felt blunt confusion, darkened with suspicion and hurt. Why was he enjoying himself so much? Didn't he miss me at all? How could he dance without being reminded of me?  
  
And then, my dizzied senses caught it. The explanation for everything. The only logical thing, once you came to think about it. He was dancing in the arms of another girl. How stupid of me not to think of that! I thought that I had toughened up after my mother's death, but no, I was apparently still the same dumb, naïve little girl that believed in nothing but dreams and fantasies.  
  
I waited impatiently for me to get mad at myself, for always trusting everybody too much. But instead of reproach, frustration and anger, I felt something else: Despair. In one big lurch, all my logical thoughts were shattered by this powerful feeling, which didn't only control my heart, but also my thoughts. Suddenly I knew I wasn't the same empty-headed, smart- alecky person as everybody else here. They were all on the surface, your typical picture of the average teenager. I went beyond that. I didn't want to be different, but I was. This horrible, sick, crazy feeling boiling inside me was anything but the normal, annoyed, jealous emotions a girl my age usually had when she found out her boyfriend was dating somebody else. I felt like a little two year-old, lost and cold in a busy winter street, being numbed by the cold, wiping its nose on its sleeve, howling for its mother, who would not come…  
  
The same feeling of helplessness raged inside me, threatening to come out at any moment. As if suddenly commanded, I turned on my heels and raced to the exit, blindingly pushing away people who didn't matter anyway, with only one thought on my mind: I'm going to kill myself.  
  
So, what do you think? Don't worry, I WILL NOT make this a horrible, bloody suicide. Please review, even if you think it's dumb, because if I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I won't change it, right? And please tell me if you think I put to much detail in it, or if you dance, too! Shooting Jewel 


	4. Burning up inside

Burning up inside  
  
Still from Sara's POV. If you want one from another perspective, just tell me in your review, and I'll see what I can do without messing up my plot. The same goes for any other suggestions! I know the title of this chapter is screwed; I hope it won't influence the rest of the story!  
  
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I walked about feverishly, looking for something - anything - to do. But what could I? I only knew I wanted to leave this world, full of hate, betrayal, and always having to fight for whatever you wanted; always having to hurt somebody else to do something you wanted to, or to have fun. I myself was the best example for it: I wanted my mom to come to the audition, and she got killed in a car accident. Derek had told me it wasn't my fault, but why should I believe anything he said? He didn't care about doing anything that interfered with his having fun. He was actually incredibly selfish, come to think of it.  
  
But I couldn't fool myself. Here I was, thinking rationally about him being selfish, and all the time I felt sick enough to throw up, even too sick to throw up. And yet, I wanted to - I wanted to do something. Usually when I got mad, I swore, shouted, or snapped at whoever had hurt me, or even hit out at them. But this time, none of these things would come close to expressing the fever inside me, to somehow cool it down so it wouldn't burn me up with it.  
  
I tore around frantically, stray wisps of hair flying against my forehead, my arms wrapped tightly around my waist as if I was cold, when I felt as if all the ice in the world wouldn't cool me down. With a surge of disgust, I dug my fingernails into my rib-cage, punishing myself silently for all the stupid things I had ever done. I hated this body. Always disobeying my will, fit for nothing, and apparently not even good enough to hold a guy's attention for more than a year. As for dancing - what thumping music my senses could pick up from the outside world, when they were all focused on my hated inner self, seemed to mock, instead of inspire me to dance. Vaguely I felt each beat seeming to strike me with dull pain.  
  
Now the fire inside me was boiling over. I clawed frantically at myself, as if trying to stop it from doing anything to me, while all the while almost running now with painful energy. Hot, salty tears started to pour down my cheeks, but I barely felt them; I had only started crying to let out the heat in me. My shoes hit the ground harder and harder, pounding out my unbearably hot energy. In desperation, my clouded eyes searched frantically for anything else I could do.  
  
By now I was screaming inside, and racing around in circles so fast my vision was just brief glimpses of the different pictures. When I saw a car noisily rumbling along the dark road beside me, it was as if someone had suddenly told me what to do. An immense relief swept over me and, spurred on by the insane, white-hot energy burning inside me, I dashed to the street and leaped in front of the car.  
  
For a split second, the headlights blinded me, then- suddenly, the heat was forcefully knocked out of me, and I lay still, and cold, completely at rest.  
  
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Okay, I know, short chapter and incredibly stupid place to stop, but I wanted to bring this out really soon, so that I could work on my other story, and I wanted to try my hand at a cliff-hanger (haha). Sorry if it's a little depressing, but I was feeling pretty low just now. I'll cheer up if I get reviews for this, though! *hint, hint*  
  
Shooting Jewel 


	5. Injured in Heart and Body

Injured in Heart and Body  
  
Yet another of my infamously dumb titles. Oh well, nothing to be done about that. Thank you to everybody who has reviewed on this; and, as you wish, Sara will NOT DIE *cheers loudly*. Even though I have not been told to change the POV, I'll change it slightly in bits. After all, we must know what Derek is thinking, mustn't we?!  
  
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Sara could not see anything, even though she was sure she had her eyes open. There wasn't even blackness, just nothingness, as if her sense of seeing did not exist. She felt as if she was drifting on a tidal wave, swaying back and forth, never getting anywhere, and always ending up in the same spot she had started from. It was peaceful, but oddly frustrating.  
  
Suddenly she felt something soft close to her eye area. Surprised, she tried to open her eyes, and was rewarded by a little slit of light which coloured her nothingness for a second, then it diminished. Strange, she had thought she had her eyes open, but obviously she didn't, and it seemed very hard to lift her lids.  
  
The next time she strained to see something, a flash of light and a warm brown face seeped through the thick layers of nothingness and swaying feelings to what had to be her brain.  
  
Somehow, she associated that face with something, a hazy, flimsy picture floating beside her on another wave; she knew it was there, but she could only catch glimpses of it in the water, and never quite reach it or see all of it.  
  
A girl - a dark hand at the side of her face - trust and hope pouring from her eyes - a boy's face, shining with confidence and love - and it was gone, as quickly as it had come.  
  
Intrigued by the new discovery, she summoned up enough energy to tug her heavy eyelids open fully.  
  
The wall facing her was white, with health posters stuck on in places. The lighting was brighter than she liked, not being fully used to the brightness after her hazy nothingness. And sitting on a stool beside the bed she was in, was Derek.  
  
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The first emotion she felt was irony. Really, it was terribly ironic. Here was Derek, with all the right emotions of fear, concern, and relief that she was awake and conscious showing blandly on his face. If it had been any other accident (for now she remembered everything and had guessed she was in the hospital and why), she would have been grateful beyond belief that he was there when she woke up. If it had been any other accident . . .  
  
But it hadn't been. Derek had been the reason why the accident had occurred.  
  
Dully, she noticed a throbbing pain in her knee. Great, this would probably take her out of classes for at least a month. If she hadn't been kicked out for running away in the middle of the night, that was.  
  
She had risked all this to see Derek for a few hours. And this was what it had come to. And now, after betraying her and causing her to injure herself and her chances of a career, Derek actually had the audacity to stand at her sick bed and look concerned like your typical guy in a romance novel!  
  
The thought made her angry, seething, venomous. She wouldn't let Derek try to come up with a good excuse; she just didn't want anything more to do with him.  
  
Derek's eyes locked with hers as he softly asked:  
  
'Sara?'  
  
Sara, existing only of the rage inside her, was past feeling anything at the tenderness in his voice. She focused on him with a deliberate stare and, finding that her voice wasn't husky or scratchy, issued the command that was keeping her strong:  
  
'Go away, Derek.'  
  
(A/N: Should I stop here as a cliffhanger, or write on? Hmmm - tough decision. But then, the last chapter was so short already, I really can't afford to make this one short, too, without getting scorched with flames. So, here's another scene or two, from Derek's POV this time!)  
  
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Derek's eyes glinted as his hopes rose. He was sure he had seen Sara's eyelids flicker slightly. Gently taking his hand from the side of her face where he had put it before, he gazed at her, waiting for another sign of life.  
  
Sara's eyes opened and closed another time.  
  
Grateful beyond recognition, Derek bent over her. He had been waiting for this all night. And what a night it had been!  
  
First of all, there was the stress of the Steps' Dance Competition - his dance partner, Mandy, had been terribly nervous because the prize money would pay for her to take a hair-dressing apprenticeship (her dream for life, though Derek couldn't see why, but then, he couldn't see a lot of stuff about Mandy).  
  
But then, shortly after they had finished their dance, a man had come running into Steps to phone an ambulance, saying his car had hit a girl on the road. When they had all come out to investigate, he had suddenly heard Chenille's scream: 'My God, it's Sara!'  
  
At first he'd thought she'd made a mistake. What would Sara be doing out on the road next to Steps? Julliard was pretty far away, and that's where he had thought she was.  
  
Then came the shock of actually seeing her on the ground. It was Sara, no doubt about it, but her beautiful eyes were closed, and her fancily done- up hair was tousled and dirty from lying on the wet road. Her slightly tanned skin looked an unhealthy green under the street-lamp.  
  
He could remember the details painfully clearly. How he'd run forward as fast as he could and gathered her carefully up into his arms. How there had been a swelling bump on her forehead where it had hit the windshield, and as he gently moved her, he noticed her left leg sticking out at an odd angle. How the ambulance had come and the men had taken her out of his cradling arms. How, driven by fear and panic, he had ridden to the hospital in the police car that had arrived shortly afterwards. How he had been sitting by her bed since 11:00 p.m. when they had arrived till - glancing at his watch he saw it was four in the morning - now.  
  
Sara opened her eyes again, and this time they focused on him. Relieved, Derek stretched out a hand towards her.  
  
'Sara,' he said hoarsely, wanting to have the words to explain to her what agony he had been through, thinking about her broken leg, wondering when she would be able to dance again.  
  
Suddenly, Sara's eyes turned cold and imperious.  
  
After having tested if her voice still functioned, she turned to his confused face; his eyes still searching hers for trust or love. Why were they so hard and unemotional?  
  
'Go away, Derek,' she told him firmly.  
  
**************************  
  
A young black nurse who had been looking through some papers at a desk in the hospital room looked up at Derek, still staring unbelievingly at the one girl he had thought understood him totally.  
  
'If Miss Sara doesn't want to see you, maybe you'd better go. She's probably very tired and exhausted, and you must be, too, staying at her bed all night.' the nurse told him gently.  
  
At the mention of him staying by her side all night, something flickered through Sara's stony features. Confusion, maybe?  
  
Derek turned to her, his brows knit together in hurt disbelief.  
  
' Why, Sara? What's the matter?' he asked simply.  
  
Sara rolled her eyes as if he was being tiresome.  
  
'Look, I don't want to hear any of your pathetic excuses. Just get out of my sight, for good, okay? It would be very much appreciated.' she told him impatiently in a sarcastic voice.  
  
'What?! Now I'm totally confused! What are you accusing me of?' he asked, perplexed.  
  
Sara closed her eyes.  
  
'I'm sleeping,' she announced loudly.  
  
After gazing at her with both annoyance and dismay, Derek, shrugging, turned around and walked out of the room.  
  
************************  
  
After he had gone, Sara's strong wall of anger crumbled. She tried to stay angry at him, but found that she couldn't. She had wanted him to stay there; wanted him to explain to her, but he had gone.  
  
Feeling the familiar symptoms coming, she turned around with her back to the nurse. There she broke down and only with great effort could keep her uneven sobbing quiet so nobody would hear.  
  
****************************  
  
Well, I guess this turned out sadder than I thought. By the way, have you all figured out the girl dancing with Derek and her relationship to him? If not, don't worry, I'll explain it more clearly later. Sorry, but frankly, there are too much reviews to thank you all singly, but, believe me, I am really grateful to each and every one of you!!! And don't worry, I am NOT going to break Sara and Derek up for good, I wouldn't be that cruel! Well, maybe I would. *j/k* Can't wait for more reviews!  
  
S.J. 


	6. Priorities come first

Priorities come first  
  
I really hate myself; this is the third time I've done a dumb title! *hits her head on the table* Oh, well. This is another chapter from not only Sara's and Derek's POV, but also Chenille's, since she's been left out too much lately. Also, this should be a longer chapter, and maybe even a happier one . . .  
  
*********************  
  
Derek fumbled for his keys in his pocket, yanked them out and entered his house. Glancing around, he saw Chenille asleep on the sofa, still dressed in her Steps outfit, with her blanket lying half on her, half on the floor.  
  
Gently he reached over and covered her again. As soon as he did, Chenille's eyelids flew up and she sat up quickly.  
  
'How's Sara?' she said, by way of greeting.  
  
Derek left her and went into the kitchen to get a drink, so she wouldn't see his face. Why did she have to talk about this right now, when he first wanted to go over it in his head?  
  
'Conscious, and pretty much OK,' he called from the kitchen, attempting a cheerful voice.  
  
Behind him, he heard footsteps, announcing Chenille's arrival.  
  
'What do you mean, 'pretty much OK'?' she asked suspiciously, wondering why Derek didn't turn around to face her.  
  
'Well, her knee is sprained pretty badly, and her hip is twisted, or something. She won't be able to do ballet for at least a month, and then she'll have to build all her muscle and endurance strength all over again. Maybe she can't afford it at this stage, I don't know,' he said, voicing part of his lesser worries.  
  
'Didn't you talk to her?' Chenille pestered. 'I thought you said she was conscious.'  
  
'Yeah, but I had to leave pretty soon, because the nurse said I might upset her, or something,' he answered lightly.  
  
At this, Chenille laughed, making him even more miserable. 'Upset her? She'd give the earth to see you the first time she woke up after being knocked unconscious,' she announced. 'Well, or at least risk the dangers of being caught out of bed at night in that school of hers.'  
  
Derek suddenly remembered something he had wanted to ask her. 'What was Sara doing outside of the club anyway? Why would she come there?'  
  
Chenille rolled her eyes. 'You could pass off as the stupidest person on the whole damn planet, Derek. The answer to that is YOU!'  
  
This caught Derek entirely off guard. 'Me?' he asked in disbelief. How could that be, when she had basically just kicked him out of the hospital?  
  
'The one and only,' Chenille grinned at her brother and stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Derek in a state of utter confusion.  
  
***************************************  
  
'Sara?'  
  
Sara, feeling very exhausted now she had stopped crying, turned around reluctantly, wondering tiredly why they didn't just leave her alone.  
  
A doctor was sitting on a chair beside her bed - the same chair Derek had sat in, Sara noticed with a little wince of pain.  
  
'OK, Sara, how about you tell us what happened. We got a report from the police about the accident, but there are still some unclear bits in it. As well,' he added, looking at her intensely, 'we've received a phone call from the Julliard School of Arts, about a missing student - you, we're guessing.'  
  
Sara thought over what he had said, wondering how much of the truth she should tell.  
  
The doctor eyed her sharply, and when she didn't say anything, he continued. 'Let's start with the Julliard School. Are you a pupil there?'  
  
Sarah looked sullen. I was, but now I'll probably get kicked out, she thought glumly. However, she decided she didn't have enough energy to be defiant, and answered obediently: 'Yes, I take dance there.'  
  
The doctor looked slightly alarmed. 'Professionally?' he asked her carefully.  
  
'Of course', was Sara's response.  
  
'Well . . .' the doctor hesitated, obviously unsure what to tell her. 'Estimated, it will take up to four months for you to get into a physical condition in which you can take on the daily professional lessons such as Julliard requires you to. I'd have to ask a physician, but I don't know if this means you will have to give up your chance of a dance career.'  
  
'What?' Sara was shocked. 'What's wrong with me?' she asked defiantly.  
  
'Your knee isn't really the problem, it's just sprained, which will only last a few weeks. But your hip - at first we thought it was only twisted, but unfortunately, it's not. There is serious damage to your hip bone, and it will take a very long time for you to recover.' The doctor finished his grave speech.  
  
Then he switched over to a brisker tone. 'So, what were you doing out on the street when you should have been safe in your school?'  
  
Sara shrugged, still trying to cope with the news that she was threatened, once again, to stop dancing as a professional. What else could she do with her life? It would suddenly turn dull and grey, with all hints of the shining colours that had filled it a day ago gone.  
  
'I was so bored,' she finally said, coming up with an excuse. 'I wanted to get out, so I just strolled around the city. Then I noticed how late it was, and started to run back, so I didn't notice the car coming . . .'she drifted off, and looked at him expectantly. Would he buy the story?  
  
He frowned. 'Alone in the city at night?' he asked her incredulously.  
  
Sara gulped. Damn it, I didn't consider that, she thought, searching frantically for an excuse. When she didn't find one, she resolved to tell him part of the truth.  
  
'You win', she told him sullenly. 'OK, here's what really happened: I was out in the park late in the evening, and some of my friends came along, and we went out to a club. From then on, it's pretty much the same. I noticed the time, and ran as quickly as I could. Then you know what happened.'  
  
The doctor smiled briefly, but then his face returned to looking serious. 'Well, Sara, maybe next time you should consider where your priorities lie', he informed her, getting up.  
  
Sara gazed at his back as he left the room. Her priorities . . . They had always been dancing and her mum, till she died, and then she hadn't had any priorities for a while, and then it had been Chenille and Derek, and then dancing again . . . and now, it seemed as though she had no priorities at all in her life. Except -  
  
'Chenille!' she suddenly whispered, excited. Surely her best friend could help her out! Hope flooding through her, she turned to the nurse at the desk. 'Excuse me, did you find my cell phone? I had it with me when the car hit me.'  
  
The nurse smiled. Reaching over, she handed Sara her cell phone. 'Do you want to make a call?' she asked the invalid. Sara just nodded; she was already dialling Chenille's phone number.  
  
*************************************  
  
Chenille was in the middle of feeding little Christopher his breakfast.  
  
'Come on, honey. Just eat one more spoonful for mommy, okay? I'm stressed out as it is; I don't need no more trouble than Sara's already giving me, being in the hospital', she added resentfully.  
  
When her cell phone rang, she threw up her hands in defeat. 'I give up! There is no way I can hope to relax a little today!'  
  
Dropping her son's spoon in his bowl and wiping his mouth with a napkin, Chenille jumped up and, after some difficulty, found her phone still in her coat pocket.  
  
'Hello?' she said ungraciously.  
  
'Hi, it's me, Sara. I'm really feeling -'  
  
But she was interrupted by Chenille's excited scream. 'Oh, I am so glad it's you who called! And you'd better be, too, cos I would have strangled anybody except you just now.' she concluded savagely.  
  
'Why? What's up at your house?' Sara's voice sounded wistful even through the phone. She's probably bored to death, Chenille thought with sympathy. Being stuck in a hospital room can't be much fun. Out loud she announced disdainfully: 'What can you expect? Just your typical day trying to cope with infuriating Derek and annoying Christopher. Believe me, your better off in that hospital, girl.'  
  
A sigh from Sara was transmitted over the line. When she spoke again, her voice sounded hesitant, trying to be casual but definitely waiting to hear something important. 'Did Derek - say - anything? When he came home? About, uh, me, maybe?'  
  
Chenille was mystified, and her voice showed it. 'Whatcha mean, did he talk about you? As if I would let him get away with not giving me the news! Besides, he often talks about you, I don't see why this morning should have been different.' She paused, waiting for an explanation. What was Sara getting at?  
  
'Oh, Chenille, I missed you so much. I mean, sure I have friends at the ballet school but they're all so uptight. You're the only one I can come to with my problems now, and I need you to talk to right now. Can you come?' Sara sounded pleading.  
  
Detecting the urgency in her voice, Chenille didn't hesitate. 'Be right with you. Just let me finish feeding Christopher and I'll be on my way. Uh, Sara? Is this anything Derek should know about? I mean, should I tell him anything particular?' She waited expectantly. Now she would know if all this had anything to do with her brother.  
  
'No, he doesn't need to hear any of this. He already knows it all.' Sara's voice was suddenly bitter.  
  
Chenille took a deep breath and addressed Sara again in a curt tone: 'Don't worry, I'll be right there.'  
  
After Sara had thanked her and said good-bye, Chenille wandered over to Christopher, who was attempting to eat his spoon. 'Sara's got herself into deep trouble now,' she muttered under her breath, hoping that her suspicion wouldn't prove correct.  
  
******************  
  
Meanwhile, Derek had the music on in his room, but he wasn't listening to it. What could he have done to Sara that she would treat him this way? After all, he himself had been getting really depressed that she had not tried to see him sooner. And Chenille had said she had come to the club to see HIM. Then why -  
  
Suddenly he jumped back with a groan and slapped himself on the forehead with his palm. The dance competition!!! How could he have been so stupid?! How could she, as a matter of fact?  
  
Derek stood up and started pacing the room, the answer coming clearer to him with every step. Sara had obviously left the dance school to see him. She wouldn't have known that the competition was on that night, how could she have? She had probably come into Steps, looked for him, and spotted him at the exact moment when he was dancing with Mandy! And it hadn't been timid dancing either, they had both laid it on thick for such an important contest. But Sara, completely oblivious to this fact, would have been horrified, run out, and -  
  
Derek stopped suddenly. Tried to kill herself?! Was it possible that she loved him that much? Or was it just an accident that she hadn't noticed the car in her distress?  
  
Only one thing was clear: He had to see her as soon as possible and EXPLAIN. Without a second thought, he grabbed his jacket and left for the hospital.  
  
**************************  
  
Sooo . . . what do you think? I'm sure all you smart, intelligent people know EXACTLY what's going to happen, so it's not really a cliffhanger, right? *hopes desperately for no flames* I love all the reviews I got, they're really what's keeping this story alive. I mean, I write it, but you guys motivate me so I can't leave it alone anymore! And you are welcome to trash the story in your reviews, I won't mind! (Well, actually I will, but that's beside the point. What I really mean is: review, please!)  
  
Shooting Jewel 


	7. Bear it together

Bear it together  
  
This is the next chapter for Threatened Dancer, which I have FINALLY completed! You don't know how difficult it is for time-stressed me to handle three stories at the same time. I know I sound really wimpy to all you people who have ten or more stories out, but as I said, I'm time- stressed. Enough excuses, let's get on with the story! This will be a bitter-sweet chapter (provided the characters do what I want them to and don't go wandering off somewhere on their own), sad but happy at the same time. See for yourself:  
  
*******************************  
  
'Ok, shoot. What's so urgently wrong?' Chenille flopped down on the chair beside Sara's bed and glanced at the invalid expectantly.  
  
Sara looked at her friend dully. 'Nothing, except that Derek's been cheating on me, is acting all innocent, and that I've sent him to hell.'  
  
Chenille drew her breath in sharply. 'God, you don't believe in staying out of trouble, do you?' she exclaimed. 'How did Derek cheat on you anyway?' she added, curious.  
  
Sara sighed. 'He was dancing with another girl when I saw him in Steps the night I sneaked out - to see him . . .' she trailed off miserably.  
  
'Just dancing?' Chenille asked suspiciously. 'Or bad dancing? You gotta know the difference.'  
  
'I do!' Sara said vehemently. 'And it was pretty heavy, by anyone's standards.'  
  
'Well, I don't know what was going on, really. But I can't really believe that Derek would do a thing like that. I mean, he loves you like crazy, and he doesn't mind waiting for you so you can go after your dreams. Sure he loves to dance, but I can't see him cheating on you to dance with another girl.' Chenille stopped abruptly, and looked defiantly at Sara, defending her brother.  
  
Sara moaned. 'Oh, don't you turn against me, too! The whole world is against me! First Derek, then I won't be able to dance for months, so I might have to give it all up, and now you lecture me, too!'  
  
Chenille sat still for a minute, torn between sympathy for her friend and loyalty to Derek, then reached over and hugged Sara tightly.  
  
'Don't worry,' she whispered soothingly in her ear, 'no matter what happens, you won't have to face it alone. Even if Derek and your mother won't be here for you, I will.'  
  
Tears slid down Sara's cheeks, as she clung to her friend desperately.  
  
At that moment, both girls heard the sound of a door being thrown open and slammed shut again. When they looked up in shock, there stood Derek in the room, his brown eyes full of compassion and understanding.  
  
******************************  
  
Even though she had been crying, Sara managed to resume her dignity.  
  
'Don't remember asking you to come, Derek', she said coolly. Chenille stood up and slipped away quietly, not wanting to disturb them in their talk.  
  
Derek didn't even notice. 'Sara', he spoke earnestly. 'You saw me dancing with Mandy, didn't you? Was that what was wrong?'  
  
Nonchalantly, Sara shrugged her shoulders. 'So that was her name. You'll have to introduce her to me sometime.' she told him sarcastically.  
  
But Derek wasn't put off. 'Sara, how could you have thought I had anything to do with that girl? She was my dance partner, for heaven's sakes!'  
  
'So I noticed.' Sara interrupted harshly.  
  
'No! Not the way you think! There was a competition for the best dancers in Steps, and we had to do it with partners, so I took her because she's a decent dancer; that's all, I swear it!' He gazed at her levelly, willing her to believe what he was saying.  
  
She gazed at him in disbelief, but then shook her head stonily. 'That's impressive, Derek, I'd give that excuse an eight out of ten, but you'll have to try a little harder to make it sound realistic.'  
  
Derek frowned at her. 'What's wrong with you?' he demanded. 'I've told you the truth. Why won't you believe me?'  
  
'I guess I've just been hurt one too many times', Sara replied sharply, refusing to let him try to convince her. 'Now, we've been through all of this before; I believe now the part comes where I say 'piss off', but correct me if I'm wrong.'  
  
Derek glared at her. His gentleness was gone, and he felt only anger and frustration.  
  
'Well, maybe you wouldn't get hurt so much if you trusted people a little more!' he snapped at her.  
  
She simply raised her eyebrows. 'My 'piss off' line is coming', she warned him.  
  
Suddenly, Derek felt only annoyance towards the sarcastic girl lying in the hospital bed. 'Oh, by the way, thanks for visiting me so often after vowing you'd sooner run away than not see me for a month!' he snarled before he could stop himself.  
  
The instant he did, a change came over Sara. She stared at him, wide- eyed, a look of immense horror and guilt on her face, as she whispered: 'I tried . . .'  
  
Then she broke down completely, and was sobbing unrestrainedly, shaking with bottled-up pain and agony.  
  
All of Derek's bitterness was washed away, and the sweet tenderness he had felt before any time he was with Sara returned. Carefully, gently, he moved over to her bed, sat down on it, and wrapped her in his arms.  
  
Sara gasped with surprise and new hope, and clung to him wildly, crying into his shoulder. Time seemed to stop as the two sat, clasping each other in their arms in an endless embrace, all sins forgiven and forgotten, and only the strong love that bound them in their hearts. They both felt as if the last weeks had been a hazy nightmare, and not a moment had passed since they had held each other the last time.  
  
'I'm so sorry,' Sara whispered in a shaky voice. He leaned down and softly put his lips on hers, as if telling her she needn't apologize for anything she had done.  
  
Sara's heart leaped. In a lightning flash, she felt that surging feeling she had whenever he kissed her; a feeling she had almost forgotten and hadn't thought she would ever feel again. She grasped Derek tighter and kissed him back passionately, as if she thought that if she ever let go, their happiness would break and be lost forever.  
  
Derek held her to him, his mouth never leaving hers, feeling only complete happiness and excitement at kissing HER again, the girl he had missed with more longing than he had known till now. Now was all that mattered. Now he was together with her, their dark and pale skin forming an intricate pattern. Any suffering that had occurred in the past was made up for with this moment. And anything that would happen in the future was only a shadow, one that they would live through and bear together.  
  
Only he didn't know exactly how strong they would have to be to bear the future, even together.  
  
***********************  
  
Chenille quietly opened the door, crept into the room, and slammed it shut. Grinning, she watched Derek's and Sara's reactions: Both jumped and whipped their anxious faces around towards her. When they saw her, both of them looked furious for having been interrupted. Chenille laughed out loud in amusement.  
  
'It is NOT funny, Chenille!' Sara cried out, blushing. But then she laughed, too, relieved of her worst worries and united with her friends.  
  
Chenille crossed the room quickly and joined the couple. 'When's the wedding?' she asked brightly.  
  
Derek widened his eyes in mock astonishment. 'It was five minutes ago, how could you have missed it?'  
  
While Sara burst out laughing, Chenille smacked her brother across the head good-naturedly.  
  
'You know?' she suddenly said. 'It seems just like the old days, with all of us hanging out together and having fun.'  
  
'The difference', Derek remarked, 'is that we're 'hanging out' in a hospital room and Sara can't move.'  
  
Chenille shrugged. 'Didn't seem like that a second ago', she put in slyly. 'I was going to tell you to be a little careful of her, but I'm guessing she didn't mind.'  
  
The pair grinned secretively at one another, but didn't say a word. They didn't have to.  
  
Suddenly, the door opened again, and the doctor Sara recognized from before entered. He stopped short at seeing Chenille and Derek, but then continued walking towards her.  
  
'Hallo, Sara. I see you have some visitors.' he said, glancing at her meaningfully.  
  
Sara looked resolute. 'Yes, as a matter of a fact, I do. They're my friends.' she added defiantly.  
  
The doctor nodded warily. 'May I speak to you in private, Sara?' he asked her cautiously.  
  
'About what?' she demanded suspiciously.  
  
The doctor sighed. 'Your current state of health', he told her. 'And some information I got from the physician at Julliard's', he added deliberately.  
  
Sara looked pale, but composed. 'You can tell me outright', she informed him calmly. 'I'd tell my friends anyway.'  
  
'Very well, but don't say I didn't warn you', he said gravely.  
  
'Is it that bad news?' Derek asked anxiously.  
  
The doctor didn't answer right away. He pulled up a chair and sat facing the little group; Derek and Chenille sitting on either side of Sara, as if to strengthen her.  
  
'Yes', he finally said. 'It is that bad news. I've talked with the physician and your teachers, Sara, and, from what I can gather, it will not only take several months for the hip injury to heal, but also another month for you to gradually work your way up to the level of expectation at Julliard's classes again. You'll miss the Christmas exams, for sure, and you might not even have enough time to build up the strength for the spring exams. Either way, you'll miss a year of training, and it's doubtful if you will be able to complete your Julliard training when you are young enough. Soon you'll be too old to join a troupe.'  
  
The room was quiet. Chenille was watching the doctor with a look of horror and dislike, Derek looked stricken, and Sara seemed to have gone into a trance, disengaging herself from the rest of the world.  
  
Finally the doctor spoke again. 'I'm sorry, Sara', he said gently. 'But we can't help you in any way. I'll look into it some more, but frankly - it looks like you're going to have to look at an alternative career.' With that, he stood up and left, leaving three hearts broken.  
  
******************  
  
Sara heard his footsteps fading away, brisk and business-like. She herself was shocked into numbness, and for a fleeting moment, she felt as helpless and betrayed as when she had seen Derek dancing with Mandy, and the destructive flame blazed up inside her, stifling her with its heat.  
  
But then she felt a cool hand on hers, and the flame flickered and went out inside her. The numbness hung heavy on her like a cloud of rain, but she didn't feel the suicidal urge as she had a moment ago.  
  
'Sara', Derek said softly. 'Don't worry. No matter what happens, I will be behind you. Forever.'  
  
Sara turned to him, her pain reflected in his eyes. She pulled her face in a grimace like a smile, and told him with great effort: 'Not behind me. WITH me, Derek.'  
  
'Me, too.' Chenille put in quickly. 'I'll do whatever I can to help you, girl.'  
  
As Sara gazed at them, feeling surged back into her; pain, agony, and disappointment, but feeling none the less. She grasped Derek's and Chenille's hands in hers, and silently thanked them for the strength that was pouring into her. SHE would not give up without a fight!  
  
*****************  
  
Hmmmm . . . interesting chapter. Sorry for all this tragedy, but hey, what would be the point in writing if everything was perfect? Of course, this will have a happy end (as I am a great believer in totally happy ends), but there is some trouble before that. Oh, come on, let's look on the bright side! Our dream pair is together again! *cheers loudly yelling at the top of her lungs* Well, see you on the next chapter, or when you review (haha, as if anyone in the world would review on this boring, sentimental chapter! Nice joke, Shooting Jewel)!  
  
S.J. 


	8. The Choice

The Choice  
  
I've decided that I'll wind this story up soon, so don't expect too many chapters after this. It's gonna end pretty soon, and, as I said before, happily. Sooo. this is the beginning of the end.  
  
******************************  
  
Sara flipped through a dance magazine glumly. Chenille and Derek had gone, and she was not only bored, but also feeling flat. After all, if she couldn't dance, then what? Everything would be unbearable without dance. That was what lifted her up into the clouds of heaven, when she felt at absolute peace with herself and the world. Almost like when Derek held her.  
  
She was jerked back to reality by the arrival of a group of doctors and nurses. She recognized the one as a famous specialist. Against her will, bubbles of hope rose up inside her. Could he do anything for her?  
  
'Miss Sara, as you might know, I am Dr. Stirn. I heard of your predicament, and I was very sorry to. It is always the greatest sorrow when the person afflicted would have a career like yours in front of them.'  
  
I know all that, Sara thought impatiently. What she said was: 'So, why are you here?'  
  
The doctor's grave eyes became even more solemn. 'Though under ordinary treatment, nothing can be done for you, there is a special operation that could fix your leg in time to build up enough strength to attend your regular classes, and take the spring exams.'  
  
At the sight of Sara's joyful face, he smiled grimly. 'But what you must understand is that this operation is very risky, and that if it fails, your leg will be in a worse condition than before. In short, you would be crippled for life.' he added bluntly.  
  
Shock and frustration swept through Sara, but she forced herself to keep a calm face.  
  
'What are my chances of the operation going well?' she asked, trying valiantly to stop the tremble in her voice.  
  
'Almost exactly fifty-fifty', Dr. Stirn answered. 'It is, of course, your decision, but remember the risk before you make it.' With these words, he left a very troubled Sara to her worries.  
  
**********************  
  
'Derek! Derek! Sara phoned!'  
  
Derek, having just come in after taking Christopher for a walk, was assaulted by the very excited Chenille, who came tearing through the living room.  
  
'What?' he asked tiredly. He really had no wish to have to deal with his sister in this mood now.  
  
'Derek! Listen to what I'm saying! Sara phoned, and there's an operation that could be done on her leg, which would make it better in time for her to attend Julliard classes, so she could still dance professionally!'  
  
Derek had to process this information first. Then he stared at Chenille in amazement. 'You really mean it?'  
  
His sister's face became sombre. 'Yeah, that's what she said. But there's also this risk that the leg could be deformed or something, so she'd be crippled.'  
  
The sudden happiness that had flooded Derek's soul drained out of him as quickly as it had come. His throat tightened, and he didn't trust himself to speak.  
  
His darling, beautiful Sara, so strong, but yet so vulnerable, was put before this horrible choice. Closing his eyes, he could still see her, her face earnest in concentration, her limbs lifting gracefully as she danced. She could lose all that in one miserable strike of fate, and he could do nothing about it.  
  
Wordlessly, he brushed by Chenille, who turned on him angrily. 'Don't you have ANYTHING to say?'  
  
Derek sighed heavily. 'I wouldn't know what,' he answered her.  
  
****************************  
  
The kindly nurse came briskly into Sara's room, carrying a pile of magazines, which she dropped on the invalid's night-table.  
  
Sara glanced over without much interest, having lost all that animated her. She just felt dull, as if nothing could satisfy her. And why should she care? Even if she died, it wouldn't make any difference. Maybe it would be better to die than to go through the agony of living, but not dancing.  
  
'They're some old dance magazines I found in the lobby,' the nurse informed her cheerfully. 'I thought you might like them.'  
  
Sara thanked her monotonously. Because the nurse didn't leave right away, and because she really didn't want to hurt her feelings, she listlessly picked up the first magazine and opened it up at a random page. Her eyes swept dismissively over it, and then focused sharply on a picture; a picture that produced a vivid memory in her mind.  
  
It displayed a pair of feet, beautiful, strong feet, but disfigured with countless blisters, some of them bleeding openly. Blue veins stuck up under the pale skin, and calluses had formed on the toes. Next to these feet lay a pair of pointe shoes (A/N: some people call them toe shoes, just so that you know; they're used so you can dance on the tip of your toes), which were scarred and battered. The pink satin was almost faded to grey, and dark streaks covered a good part of them.  
  
(A/N: Flashback) Gingerly, she removed her softened pointe shoes. She had been practicing at home for over an hour, and her feet throbbed with burning pain. She saw she had another blister on her left foot. It had burst open and was raw and bleeding. She closed her eyes in defeat. She still couldn't get the pirouettes (A/N: turn around oneself on one foot) right, but her feet ached too much for her to continue practicing. Then her mother came into the room and sat down beside her, smiling the warm smile she knew so well.  
  
'Oh, Sara, what's the matter?' she asked the twelve-year-old girl soothingly.  
  
Tears flooded from her eyes as she leant against her mother.  
  
'It hurts SO MUCH!' she sobbed. 'It's like my feet are on fire!'  
  
'Let me tell you a story, Sara,' her mum said, stroking her daughter's hair comfortingly. (A/N: this story is real, I just exaggerated it a little to make my point)  
  
'There used to be a young ballet dancer named Margot Fonteyn. She had a beautiful presence, and could express everything she wanted to on stage. But her feet were the wrong kind for ballet. She danced for years and years in intolerable pain. But she wouldn't give up, and became the principal dancer of a famous ballet company when she was only fourteen. When Margot Fonteyn was dancing, everybody had to look at her. Nobody would have guessed that each performance caused her great agony because of her feet. Then, a new kind of pointe shoe was brought out that suited her feet much better. She could now dance as freely as she had always wanted to. Margot died in 1991, and became a legend of unsurpassable beauty and grace.'  
  
Her tears had dried as she listened attentively to the story. 'And the moral of that story is?' she asked her mother.  
  
'Never give up on your dreams, and it will pay off for you in the end. In short: Nothing ventured, nothing gained.' Her mother smiled at her daughter affectionately. 'And that is what you must always remember, Sara.'  
  
  
  
As the memory faded, a feeling of calm came over Sara. She had been a coward to forget her mother's words, but she wouldn't any longer. Her chin shot up in calm defiance.  
  
She had made her choice.  
  
**************************  
  
Sorry for the absolutely shortest chapter in the universe, but that seemed a good place to stop, don't you think so? *giggles mischievously and ducks to avoid getting flamed* But it's kind of obvious what she's going to do now, sooo. see ya next chapter!  
  
Thank you, my faithful reviewers (death to everyone else, *j/k*) HAA, MarsMoonStar, and *cuty-cat* 


	9. Fated

Fated  
  
Well, this is just about the last chapter. I've totally loved writing this fic, cause I was inspired by the movie 'Save the last Dance' and cause I adore ballet myself. I've really enjoyed hearing from all my reviewers, and though I can't promise I'll write something more about a topic that you like, I'll still be grateful if you stay to the end of this story and see how it all turns out. I didn't actually mean to make it so short, but this just seems like the right place to end it, once and for all.  
  
********************  
  
  
  
Sara looked over rather tiredly at the door which had just opened, but smiled gratefully when she saw who had come.  
  
'Derek!' she exclaimed happily. She was resting, and looked beautifully calm, as if all the fear had gone out of her and she had given her heavy burden to fate.  
  
Derek's eyes burned at the injustice of seeing her, who had suffered so much, tortured even more. She was evidently worn out, but still expressed gratitude and rapture for him. He walked gently over to her and sat down on the bed, taking her slim, pale hand in his.  
  
'So tell me,' he urged her softly. 'What did you decide?'  
  
Sara's eyes seemed to see right through him for a second, then focused back on his face. They were lit up by some magical secret only she knew.  
  
'I'll do the operation,' she said simply. 'It wouldn't be right to shrink from what could open up the door that has been slammed in my face.'  
  
'And what if it doesn't work?' Derek asked anxiously. His eyes probed into hers, and he found fear in them- but only a little. Her serenity more than made up for it. 'Wouldn't you just be getting your hopes up too early?'  
  
At that, the fear took over. 'Aren't you behind me?' she demanded, wide-eyed.  
  
Instead of answering, he leaned down and kissed her lips so lightly that he hardly so much as brushed them, but the love that blossomed up inside her banished her fears immediately.  
  
'When will they operate on you?' Derek changed the subject. 'This afternoon. It will take a few hours, but I should know by evening.' Seeing the worried look in his eyes, Sara told him confidently: 'Don't worry, I'll phone you the second I get hold of the news.'  
  
He shook his head. 'Chenille and I will be waiting outside.'  
  
Sara gasped. 'During the whole of the operation?'  
  
Derek looked slightly bewildered. 'Of course,' he answered. 'What did you expect?'  
  
She leaned back on her pillow and closed her eyes. A radiance hung about her, as around one who has just received enlightenment.  
  
Derek got up quietly, and gazed at her in silence. Her long golden hair lay silkily on the white pillow, as did her eyelashes on her cheeks. The hands he had always admired were folded over her chest. The picture was one of a goddess; one that would stay in his memory forever.  
  
He suddenly knew that no matter what happened, Sara would accept it. And as long as she did, he would, too.  
  
***********************  
  
Sara glanced at the clock and calculated. She still had about ten minutes before the operation was to start, but it would take five minutes to transport her to the surgery room. That left her with five free minutes.  
  
She did not even have to think of how to spend the last bit of time. Checking that the nurse was gone, and that no one could see her in any way, she sat up and pulled off her sheets.  
  
Then, gritting her teeth against the pain, she swung first her healthy, and then her injured leg over the edge of the bed. Steadying herself on her bed, she got up. That was the easy part.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Sara tested her weight on her damaged leg. As immediate pain shot through her, she lifted it up again quickly.  
  
Defeated, she sank back on the bed. 'There's NO WAY I can do this!' she muttered angrily. Yet somehow she knew that she had to. Just this one last time.  
  
Dance. Dance till the end of her freedom. Dance till the time when her fate would be decided. She knew she could never stand it if that ballet class at Julliard's had been the last time she would ever dance. She would not let it happen.  
  
Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. The rhythm pulsed through her entire body, waking her sleeping limbs and muscles. Dance. Dance. Dance.  
  
A divine, unearthly strength filled her, opening her eyes wide. As gracefully as if she were a butterfly rising into the air she lifted herself off the bed.  
  
She was dressed in the simple shirt and shorts that served as pyjamas at the hospital. But to her, the room evaporated. In its place, there was not the ballet studio of the Julliard, not the living room in her old home where she had practiced long and hard for so many hours, not anywhere else she had ever danced. It was just her and the rhythm inside her, from the moment she first pointed her feet and lifted her arms to an oval over her head.  
  
There was no pain. There was no feeling except the blood rushing through her, supplying the endless strength she was receiving from somewhere beyond our world.  
  
Arabesque, attitude, pirouette, petit tours. Everything came back to her with no difficulties, and her body obeyed her commands before she even thought of them. The movements swirled into an intricate pattern.  
  
Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Gradually the rhythm grew fainter, and left her. The godly strength slipped away from her. She did not try to hold it back. She knew she couldn't.  
  
And then she was back in the hospital room. Wearily she felt her hot, tear-streaked face. Her damaged hip hurt unbearably. But it had been worth it.  
  
Exhausted, she dropped back on the bed. Hearing footsteps down the hall, she hastily pulled the covers back over herself. Nobody should know she had been out of bed.  
  
As the doctors entered the room and were busy lifting her onto a bed on rolls, she was in a triumphant daze. Even if she died now, or was crippled, it didn't matter. She had had her life down to the last glorious detail. And she could still feel the seraphic glory that had been hers for those last five minutes.  
  
On an impulsion, she lifted her eyes to the ceiling. Now she could hand herself over to fate. Now she was ready.  
  
***************  
  
  
  
'How is she?' Chenille asked her brother, who was just coming into the waiting room, anxiously.  
  
He looked at her steadily. 'Very calm and composed,' he informed her.  
  
'How can she?' Chenille was mystified. 'I mean, there's her whole profession on the line! I know I'd be just about crazy by now if it was me.'  
  
Derek shrugged. 'She has an unbending strength somewhere inside her. I guess she needs it, because of what happened to her mother and all.'  
  
They sat in silence for awhile. Suddenly Chenille clasped her hands.  
  
'It's starting now!' she exclaimed wildly. 'I never pray, but now I HAVE to!'  
  
Derek smiled slightly. Maybe his sister felt the need to pray, but he would just keep faith with Sara as best he could. Just imagine he was holding her hand now.  
  
People hurried by the two teenagers, both with their heads bent in solemn spirits, and both trying to believe as hard as they could that everything would be alright.  
  
********************  
  
'Sara. Sara, wake up.'  
  
A familiar voice was coaxing her out of the hazy fog that surrounded her. Blindly, she followed, for even in her state she could tell that it was a voice to be trusted.  
  
And suddenly she found she could open her eyes. Derek's tired face was illuminated with the light of the reborn.  
  
'Sara, thank goodness you're awake! The operation was successful!' he shouted happily.  
  
Right behind him was her best friend, Chenille, squealing with excitement. 'It's true! You'll be able to dance again in time to do it professionally!'  
  
'No way. It can't be. can it?' Sara was trying to figure everything out, and could not grasp that the miracle had happened.  
  
Suddenly, Dr. Stirn appeared, smiling benevolently.  
  
'Yes, it's true, Sara. You will be able to recover in time to attend Julliard classes and go in for the spring exams with excellent chances. From the medical point of view, there will be no obstacles for a professional career. But no more night-time wandering, okay?' He winked at her.  
  
Lots of people have said that the truth is hard and bitter, but at that moment Sara thought there was nothing more glorious and beautiful than the shining truth. EVERYTHING was going to be alright. She hugged Derek and Chenille close to her and laughed with a relief she had not felt possible. The world was hers to conquer once more.  
  
And, once more, she felt that divine strength flooding her again, just for a second. Sara registered it with gratitude. She was sure that it had been that strength, and Derek and Chenille's trust and love, that had saved her.  
  
Dr. Stirn had one more warning: 'I know you're over the moon with happiness now, but just remember that it's going to be hard to work up to Julliard's standards again. I don't know how good a dancer you were before, but it will take some time till you're that good again, believe me.'  
  
Sara simply laughed. She felt invincible. Still holding Derek and Chenille tight, she assured the doctor: 'THAT won't be a problem.'  
  
And as soon as she felt Derek's kiss once again, she knew that nothing that could happen would be this bad. Because she would have Derek's love forever and ever.  
  
(A/N: The end of the story? No, there's still one little bit. Enjoy!)  
  
********************  
  
Five years later, the same Sara was nervously testing her balance on her pointes. She was fully made up, and was dressed in her costume already. It was hot and stuffy in the wings of the stage.  
  
Who would have ever thought that it was me who would be picked to dance the principal role in Swan Lake, she wondered. Her first solo in the American Ballet Company.  
  
Stretching her legs on the barre that had been put up behind the stage, she grinned excitedly at Ellie, who smiled back, happiness dancing in her eyes. Ellie had realized her eating disorder, and had gone to a clinic to get help. But she had still been able to dance, and had made it to the company, just like Sara. She was dancing in the corps de ballet (A/N: the main body of dancers in a ballet company, who usually dance together in a group).  
  
Suddenly, she was interrupted while warming up. 'Miss Sara, someone to see you,' a stage assistant was saying, but Sara didn't even hear. For there he was, beaming at her.  
  
'Derek!' Disregarding her make-up and delicate costume, she threw her arms around him. He held her close, and she could feel that heavenly feeling soaring up inside her. Derek had come to see her dance!  
  
'Miss Sara, you're on in one minute', another assistant informed her. She simply nodded, and clung to Derek passionately- or, as best she could in her tutu (A/N: dancer's skirt that is usually made out of layers of tulle).  
  
'Look at where you are now!' he whispered in her ear. 'Principal dancer of the American Ballet!'  
  
'Look at you!' she retorted, smiling proudly. 'A bachelor of medicine!'  
  
He winked happily. 'Now go out there and show me your love,' he grinned at her.  
  
'No problem,' Sara said, her eyes dancing. 'When you're watching me, I dance like I'm Margot Fonteyn (A/N: She was the dancer in the story her mother told her when she was twelve)!'  
  
'No,' he replied, affection shimmering in his eyes. 'You dance better.'  
  
A hasty kiss, and Sara was at the edge of the stage, waiting for her cue. When it came, she ran gracefully out onto the stage, aware that Derek's eyes were on her.  
  
And she danced. She danced for Derek, for her mother, for Chenille, for Ellie, for her dad, and for everyone who had ever believed in her, Sara, as a dancer.  
  
THE END  
  
OMG, that was so heart-breaking to write, cause it was the last chapter. Sorry that it was so short after all the really short chapters you've had to bear. Oh, well, can't be helped. Anyway, I'd appreciate a review for the end of the story, just telling me what you thought of my ending or what you would have changed. I cleared up Ellie, so that's not on your minds. It's funny, when I started writing this I never thought it would turn out like THIS. So weird! Well, hope you all liked it anyway.  
  
Thanks to everybody who ever reviewed and especially to those that have been with this story for a long time and have reviewed often (HAA, megs, Danielle, Amy Czislowski, CurlyQ, MarsMoonStar, chosen_gurli)! I'm so grateful to you guys! I better quit the mushy stuff or I'll start crying. Also, tons of thanks to my dear little sister cuty-cat for editing my stories and catching all my dumb mistakes, and telling me what she thinks. Actually, even for just taking the time to read this. THANK YOU!!! Your very affectionate Shooting Jewel 


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